226 CLINTON SCOLLARD
��THE VALE OF SHADOWS
There is a vale in the Flemish land,
A vale once fair to see, Where under the sweep of the sky's wide arch. Though winter freeze or summer parch. The stately poplars march and march,
Remembering Lombardy.
Here are men of the Saxon eyes.
Men of the Saxon heart, Men of the fens and men of the Peak, Men of the Kentish meadows sleek, Men of the Cornwall cove and creek.
Men of the Dove and Dart.
Here are men of the kilted clans
From the heathery slopes that lie Where the mists hang gray and the mists hang white, And the deep lochs brood 'neath the craggy height, And the curlews scream in the moonless night
Over the hills of the Skye.
Here are men of the Celtic breed, Lads of the smile and tear.
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